


Ripper

by DragonQueenTessa



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Amputation, Blood and Gore, Disembowelment, Gen, I got the idea watching the Indoraptor & trophy hunter kill scene, I wrote this on impulse, Minor Character Death, My Springtrap? Acting like the Indoraptor? It's more likely than you think, Possessive William Afton, References To Past Murders, references to past character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24022336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonQueenTessa/pseuds/DragonQueenTessa
Summary: William Afton, trapped within his dear Fuzzhare suit, has gone without killing for thirty years. Against his will, mind you...Yeah, he'sachingfor a fix, and Fazbear's Fright will unknowingly provide it to him.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Ripper

A thunderstorm was brewing, he could feel its' electricity in the air. The downpour could start any moment now.

Besides sitting and thinking to himself, he didn't have much to do in this place, so making weather estimates was just another way to pass the time. He could not move an inch, not while his A.I was in its' 'stage' setting. His torso and waist parts were locked in place, ready to be fed remote commands from a now-nonexistent computer. Without that input, he had no freedom to move until his joints unlocked for 'freeroaming mode', which itself was a relic from the era when animatronics were reprogrammed to be stationary only until midnight.

The company had spun some bullshit story about servos locking up if they weren't permitted to roam on occasion, blah, _blah._

William Afton knew damn well that it was all a lie. The company didn't know why the animatronics refused to stay put at night, but he did. Oh he _knew_ , alright.

But that story was known only as a rumor or tall tale, to the public. People still thought the haunted animatronics thing was all a hoax, a story invented by those who worked there to impress gullible friends.

But those things had most certainly been haunted and out for blood. They were the reason William was here now, waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

One of _them_ , in a twisted way.

Oh yes, William 'Alexavier' Afton had a talent for standing leagues above his peers when he wanted to. He was the best-performing student in his classes, the natural leader of his school club of robotics, a clever businessman.

And if he had to be an animatronic… well, then he'd naturally be the gruesomest one of them all. An immortal chimaera of flesh and steel, beautiful in his morbidity.

He'd always held a love for drama. His first career choice would in fact have been _acting_ , but his parents had pushed him into the technical sciences, citing it as 'more viable'.

The joke was on them now, though. He was an actor! He'd entertained countless kids, wearing golden animal visages and speaking in funny voices, bringing so much joy…

And now he was one with the suit that had been his personal favourite.

It's only a shame Fuzzhare's A.I had also received the no-roam update. He had no idea why Fazbear Ent. management had bothered with the old suit, it was set to retire anyway. Their peculiar decision really put a damper on William's - Springtrap's - freedom, and as much as he loved his new form, he did feel more than a little ticked off at being so limited. He was like a vampire, only able to wander out at night when the scorching Sun was away.

Not like he could go _out_ , he was trapped in this place. It wasn't the saferoom - thank fate _that_ was over - but he was in a building none the less, and Fuzzhare's A.I didn't know how to make sense of the outside world that lay waiting beyond the exits.

He was working on that. Once he could modify the springlock suit's rudimentary A.I and break the no-roam coding, he'd surely be able to dismantle the boundary detector, too.

Alas, for now he was stuck. This would be his fourth night here in this tacky horror attraction. He had spent the past three nights hunting the place's security guard, just because he felt like it.

Soon, the young man would return, and this night, William would make sure to wrench the little gnat's head right around. Maybe even a few times. Maybe until his _neck snapped._ The idea was intriguing.

The guard usually entered at eleven, about an hour before his shift - but tonight, Will heard footsteps a little earlier than expected. He'd counted the minutes since the nightguard had last left, and knew it was currently about 22:35.

The footfalls sounded… different, too. Had the guard dipped out and left somebody else holding the bag? It honestly wouldn't surprise him, the kiddo had seemed pretty wimpy… no older than 19 for sure. Some perverse part of William's mind whispered something about them being _too old of a target_ , but his bloodthirsty side said to Hell with that idea - he hadn't killed in 30 years, he'd take whatever he could find.

He hoped his first prey in all that time wouldn't have to be some random housecat that was let out at night. He wanted to spill _human_ blood again.

The footsteps didn't head for the office. Instead, the unknown person passed right by him, opened a side door and lugged something hefty into the small room. Then, the sound of a phone ringtone sounded from it as well, and the individual picked up quickly.

 _"Yup, I'm on location."_ A young woman's voice said. _"Just gotta get my tools ready. Say, when's your guard coming in? What… he quit?"_

 _Huh_ , William thought, _he really had run away with his tail between his legs…_

_"Seriously? So I'm gonna be the only one here tonight... Said the robot moves… tried to get to him... Well, isn't that what the things were designed to do? Follow the noises, entertain guests… Yeah I never believed that 'killer robots' stuff, he must have read too many creepypastas."_

The animatronic couldn't help but feel amused. People would rather tell themselves they're imagining things than confront a supernatural reality…

 _"Listen,"_ The woman rattles on. _"With a night's work, I can improve its' pathfinding tonight and then program it with some spooky routines over the coming weeks. Your little gamble will have you swimming in riches super fast. My work better reflect in my paycheck Archie, you know I'm good at what I do."_

.

 _Good at what I do_ she claimed, but she left the would-be subject of her tinkering waiting for quite some time.

Fortunate, in a sense. William would hate for an outsider to make alterations to his beautiful creation, his _body._ By the time the unnamed techie finally set foot outside of the room again, it was 23:10. Will would have never tolerated such a sluggish work ethic.

She set down something heavy - a toolbox, in all likelihood - and he heard her lower down into a crouch.

 _"Let's see what we have here… my, just look at you … he really did find an ancient one."_ The lady marveled. _"Guy who showed him inside the the saferoom apparently said something about springlocks… gotta watch the fingers in that case."_ She muttered to herself.

Pitching her voice in a mock-friendly way, she crept closer to William. She spoke to his mechanical body, as if the mascot itself would reply. _"You've gotta be… Fuzzhare, right? The last one that was in use… I wasn't around for Fredbear's yet but you and your bear-bub had quite the colourful history."_

 _Like you have a colourful imagination,_ William thought, mentally rolling his eyes. Sure, he'd talked, even _sung_ to the empty Fuzzhare suit sometimes, way back when, but he was the creator, he _loved_ this suit, and had a genuine connection with it. This woman had no reason to act all familiar.

 _"Like you're ever gonna talk when you're rotten like this,"_ She chuckled to herself. _"Just filling the silence… but 'nough of that, let's just get to work…"_

 _Don't you dare tamper with anything too gravely,_ Will hoped. If she made some kind of unwanted alteration that he couldn't quickly roll back, then the Fuzzhare suit would be _tainted_ by her work, as would his pride be wounded.

She gave him a quick visual inspection, and when he heard her going through her toolbox, he allowed one of his faded, green animatronic eyes to open just a crack. Seeing her for the first time, even in the gloom of the attraction's shitty lighting, he registered she was small in build. _Easy to overpower._ Her clothes looked heavy and appropriate for tonight's weather. Not that it would pose any obstacle for his wrath, nor would she ever go back out into the rain that was now starting to pour.

When she began to turn back around, he quickly slipped his spying eye shut. He wanted to play a little game with her…

She fiddled around with a small tool for a moment, tugging bits of grime and dust and unidentifiable organic remains away from the shoulder joint that was facing her. _"You've been hidden away a long time, eh buddy?"_ She chimed softly, talking to the mascot again.

William was pretty sure he could speak if he really tried, the spirits within Bonnie and Chica had certainly made attempts, but the little brats hadn't managed more than some pathetic whimpers and groans. The sound meant imminent danger, but for William, it had brought back fond memories.

He listened to her work a while longer, and when she tired of fiddling with the shoulder joint, she huffed and went through her tools again. _"I'm not getting paid to do clean-up, but your joints are a _mess._ It's like a bloody rat went and got itself stuck in there."_

Well, something sure _was_ stuck here, that much was true… but William felt he deserved better than to be mistaken for a dead rat.

The young lady made a few more futile attempts to gain access to the technological heart of the machine, after which she went back to her toolbox. Again, William peeked at her, and decided he'd make this more interesting.

Ever so softly, he chuckled. Although the sound was nearly drowned out by the loud ventilation system, the technician clearly heard _something_ that drew her attention. Shutting his eyes again when she turned, he heard her mutter a soft _"...just the air currents."_ to herself.

_Silly girl, so eager to find a 'rational explanation' for everything._

.

Thunder announced itself, then. _Perfect,_ william thought. The time to roam was nearing, the mental clock he was always counting now at 23:52.

 _"Aw, shit,"_ The woman cursed. _"I was hoping the damn thunderstorm would blow over."_

The atmosphere grew thicker with the electrical charge, and something in that made William feel even more fired-up. What a perfect setting for his first kill in thirty years. Not a soul in the building but him and his prey, stormy weather out, moody lights. Like a soundtrack to the scene, thunder roared again just when the clueless lady was getting a new tool. The clock struck 00:00, and William _moved._

Oh, anticipation was positively _singing_ along his wires, bones and steel rods. His eyes opened up, his middle pitched slightly forward, and he turned his body to be facing her back, every strained noise his mechanical body made masked by the cacophony overhead. Now in position, he halted. He wanted her to see him awakened, _alive._

_He wanted the last thing she saw to be the thing that was killing her._

Thankfully, she didn't leave him waiting long this time. He would certainly remember the perplexed look in her face for quite a while. _"Hi…!"_ She said in her surprise, not backing away nearly as much as she should have.

.

Oh, and the look of _terror_ would stay with him for good. Lunging at her, he got hold of a pants leg and dragged her fully to the floor. She screamed but could not push him back, the combined weight of animatronic and the remainder of his corpse far too heavy.

He snarled, gleeful in the face of her fear. He wanted this to be a hunt, play some cat and mouse… the building would be locked until 6 A.M anyway. And he wanted to be _brutal._

He wanted her to run, and try hard at it. Easing his weight up just enough to let her kick herself free, he followed her immediately. She dove into the side room, and he instantly remembered - the phone!

Running in after her, he stood there in the doorframe, enormous and eager for violence. She screamed again at the sight of him, her delicate hands fumbling with a smooth rectangle. Letting out a deep huff, he approached her, and her fingertips tapped frantically at the device. _**"UNLOCK, DAMMIT!"**_ She shouted at it, realizing too late how quickly William had closed in. With a grunt, he snatched the weird object from her hand and crushed it in his grip with ease, tiny electrical sparks quickly dissipating from the destroyed piece of tech.

She cried out again, but in her cornered position, there was nowhere to go but towards him if she wanted to make a bid for the doorway. She made an attempt, but he had no trouble stopping her.

The strong hand around her neck pulled her back until she was in front of him again, her feet just barely off the ground and kicking wildly. He could talk to her… but decided against it. He'd like to keep her in the dark, and most humans were particularly unnerved by robots with _suspiciously_ human minds. Perhaps she'd put two and two together herself, she had clearly mentioned knowing about the springlock suits…

She couldn't breathe, and he tilted his head ever so slightly, just watching her slowly grow redder, and redder. Humans were such… vulnerable creatures. William was glad to have cast off those mortal shackles long ago. The event of being sealed away within Fuzzhare had been agony, but the result of it was… incredible.

And now he could really _hunt_ , no longer held back by the needs of a living human. Maybe he would slip away into a forest at the side of town, and prey on the children that played at the treeline. It would be enough for him.

.

Her legs kept kicking, but her attempts were weakening fast. He unceremoniously dropped her with a soft sigh, deciding he wanted to draw this thing out. Even so, he had some ideas he wanted to explore, too. He kind of mourned the loss of the nightguard, he didn't like it when his targets escaped, but this lady would do just fine in his stead.

Before she could catch her breath and get back up, he was upon her, his hands pinning her to the floor by her delicate wrists. She screamed, but his weight had her immobilized once more.

William wanted to get creative with this kill. It would be his first as _Springtrap_ , after all.

So, he did something he would have never done as a human: he used his _teeth_. His animatronic body's teeth, to be precise. He let go of her wrists and let her reach out to try and push him away, before he chomped down _hard_ on one of those small hands. With a good grip on the extremity, he lowered his head down and - with his jaws still tightly shut - _yanked_ it back up.

Hard enough to tear the hand right off its' wrist.

She screamed again, and he chortled, beastlike and cruel, the amputated hand still clamped between the dull teeth. He lifted his weight off of her just enough to let her slip free, wondering what his wounded prey would do. Fighting herself upright, she clutched the bleeding stump, still screaming and clearly confused.

William stayed crouched on all fours, dropping the torn extremity and snapping the suit mouth multiple times, practically hissing, his mechanical body shuddering from disrepair but driven with purpose.

He was something amazing and horrific, an unstoppable hybrid with the insatiable urge to _kill._

The woman saw an opening and ran for it, crying and stumbling as her life continued to drip away… he gave her a few seconds, but then rose and began the chase. She was faster than him, but he knew the horror house's layout, and there would be no audio system to lead him astray tonight. No, her frantic screaming and wailing lead him straight to his prize.

He quickly had her cornered at the backside entrance of the attraction, which she had futilely tried to open even as she became increasingly incoherent. He howled hoarsely as he mock-charged her with no intent to actually get a hit in, allowing the poor thing to duck below the 'clumsy' swing of his arm so the chase could be reinvigorated. She ran, just as he'd hoped, though her path was slicked by the trail of her own blood. Slipping and falling with an aborted shout and then a whimper, she screamed again when he quickly stalked over to her, his form hunched over like that of a true movie monster.

Now, what to deal the finishing blow with… while it was tempting to bite again, Fuzzhare's teeth really weren't built for it, and biting someone to death would require either a bigger, stronger set of jaws or a much smaller victim.

Images of a bloodied Fredbear came to the forefront of his mind, but he quickly shook them away. The past did not matter anymore. The woman screamed again and he snarled, smacking her across the face with a metal-filled hand. That shut her up, but total silence was no fun. The thunder rumbled in the sky above, and he leaned closer, waiting for his dazed prey to reorient. Looking at his powerful hand, a new idea came to him.

Sharp objects had always been his favourites when killing. They could get through human skin and flesh and guts with disgusting ease, and a well-aimed stab was the perfect middle ground between a too-swift death and the risk of creating an excessive mess.

He had no knife or other object to work with, but he had his hands… blunt though they were, all he needed was enough _pressure._ Now that he was dead, his body no longer stopped him from applying the degree of force that could have damaged his old self, and he could quite easily push straight through her skin…

So he tore away the bottom of her jacket and shirt, rousing the confused woman and baring only the last layer of clothing, her undershirt. Laying a huge animatronic paw below her heaving chest, he curled his fingertips down and started to push. Her confused and terrified noises grew gradually as he pressed harder and harder, going from painful to _bruising_ to _skin-breaking_ force. Once he saw crimson beginning to stain her undershirt from around his fingertips, he re-positioned his body slightly, clenched his hand and _ruthlessly_ tore downwards, ripping away a stretch of the soft skin. Though barely coherent anymore, she howled in agony as he dug deeper into her flesh, laying bare defenseless innards.

Oh, how he loved the _gore._ He couldn't gut his _younger_ prey like this for fear of staining his beloved disguise and leaving conspicuous traces of his crimes, but he'd always _yearned_ to do it.

.

Her dying cries eventually faded to nothing, but William - Springtrap was not done. He'd had _nothing_ for thirty long years, and this opportunity was just too good to pass up.

He continued digging, merrily excavating squishy bits of digestive tract from the abdominal cavity. Disregarding the deflated lungs, he tugged at the ribs to lay bare the heart, still fresh and even twitching along with the fingers on the woman's remaining hand. Putting his hands on the blood vessels leading into the muscle, he pinched them hard enough to break them, one after the next.

The remaining tissue holding the heart in place was no match for him, and at last, he had his prize. He didn't know what had compelled him to dig out her heart, and he didn't have a clue what do with it, but it was a pretty trophy none the less.

Like with the phone, he crushed the heart in his hand, letting it fall to the floor afterwards. Taking stock of the mess he'd made, he chuckled. The blood was pooled all around her, scraps of innards morbidly laid out as if presented as a piece of art. His dominant arm was practically drenched _black_ from the blood.

 _The only real art here is me,_ William triumphantly thought to himself, his bloodlust _finally_ sated. Slowly rising to his metal feet, he regarded her one more time, his dull green ocular units meeting her glassy, dead eyes.

 _"I always come back,"_ He muttered in the silence. The thunder sounded far away, now, and the rain had ceased. Strolling casually back to the storage room he had cornered the technician in, he went straight for the cans of generator fuel he'd seen piled there.

He would destroy the scene of his kill, and finally escape this damn building. If his A.I could no longer detect that it was inside of a structure, it would not impede him again.


End file.
